Little Foot Lost
by SilentStranger
Summary: The Turtles cant turn anyone away, not even an enemy! Don/OC male , implied Casey/Raph.
1. Chapter 1

_Cursive means past events._

**Little Foot Lost**

The darkness of the lair was lit up only by the familiar soft glow coming from Donatellos room. The brainy turtle rubbed his tired eyes, having long since lost track of time, engrossed in whatever project had been stealing his time lately. Sitting back in his chair, he sighed and listened to the comforting sounds of his sleeping family. He could even identify his beloved brothers by the sounds they made in their sleep.

Raphael snored like a wood chipper, passed out on the couch in the living room, another hard night out with the vigilante known as Casey Jones. The two had met about two years before, and had made a habit of teaming up in their nightly treks of beating up random purse snatchers and drinking far too much alcohol, though lately Raph had been coming home with another kind of bruise on his neck, which Don doubted came from fighting, or at least not the bad kind.

Michelangelo laid in his own room, surrounded by his comics, his snores softer than Raphaels, littered with giggles and sounds, his youngest brother acting out his beloved comic books in his dreams, no doubt partaking in the adventures himself.

Leonardo and Splinter were both similar in this, it was more the absence of snores that Don recognized, more of soft murmurs and the occasional grunt originating from his elder brothers room, and Splinter made no sounds at all, the ancient rat sensei having more control of his slumber than his sons.

But there was a new set of sounds these last few nights.

It had been an otherwise normal excursion over the rooftops of the city, sans Raph, who had skipped practice to "patrol" with Casey, though Donatello had some other theories of what the two hotheads were up to.

Leonardo had spotted him, the blue-clad turtle as always on high alert. The man who was hiding in the shadows of the rooftops was dressed in ninja garb, face covered in a black mask with a foot sign on it. A Foot Ninja.

_The shadowy figure sat crawled up in an almost fetal position, the familiar garb of the Foot all too evident__, a katana laid discarded nearby._

_The three mutant turtles surveying the strange sight were unsure what to do, the Foot normally attacked on sight. And they sure didn't seem to cry._

_Mike was the first to break the silence. "Uh, Leo, is… is that guy crying?" _

_The blue-garbed ninja, the eldest of the brothers, known as Leonardo frowned deeply, even he was unsure what to do, enemies were enemies, but usually the Foot were the ones who initiated combat. "…it could be a trick"_

"_I'm not so sure, bro; those sobs sound pretty genuine to me." They kept their voices low, mostly whispers, though the ninja seemed completely oblivious to their presence. _

_Slowly, the three brothers crept closer to the figure, Donatello suddenly clearing his throat loudly. The ninja darted upright, scrambling for his katana, taking up an awkward battle stance, something even the most inexperienced Foot would never do. When he saw the mutants in front of him, he lowered his weapon again._

_The first words he said were the ones the Turtles least expected._

"_Help…me"_

That had been over a week ago.

Donatello shut his computer off for the night and strolled out into the dark living room, Raphaels snoring like a rusty chainsaw by now. Smiling, he walked up to the door of the guest room and looked at the sleeping ninja within.

The ninja they had met on the rooftop that night was a young man, barely out of his teens yet. From what little he had told them, he was on the run from the Foot, though he wouldn't explain why he had escaped from them. It was fairly easy to figure out why though. His body was riddled with scars. Far too many to have come from battle alone.

_He had passed out again before they had managed to bring him back to the lair, though when they finally managed to carry him inside, he became lucid briefly._

"_Shredder… Don't… let…"_

_Leonardo who had carried him most of the way laid him down gently on the couch, raised his eyebrows at the words. Mikey chuckled "Heh, even Tin-Grins own soldiers doesn't like him!"._

"_This isn't anything to joke about, Mikey. I think he's really sick." Don frowned, placing his hand on the masked face, the feverish heat pressing through cloth. Don was about to peel the mask off to look for wounds when the mans hand shot up, grabbing his wrist tightly, the other two turtles reaching for their weapons in reflex._

"_Don't… please don't take it…"_

"_Alright man, calm down, no one is going to take your mask off" Don said calmly, the ninja closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep again. "Mikey, go get Master Splinter, I think we'll need his help." Mikey nodded, and ran off, leaving the other two brothers standing over their new patient._

"…_I don't think Splinter is going to like this, Leo"_

True, Splinter had been less than pleased that they had brought back a Foot ninja to their secret lair, but his disapproval had vanished, the old rat sensei knowing that the man had needed help, enemy or not. It was not in his nature, not in his sons nature to abandon anyone.

They were shocked to see the scar-riddled flesh of the ninja when they removed his uniform, though they left his mask on as he had asked. Most of the scars had been from cutting weapons, some they had recognized as slashes from very familiar claws. Those of the Shredder himself. He guessed that the Shredders view on ninjitsu training was a bit more extreme than the turtles were used to.

Don sighed as he watched the man stir and groan in anguish in his sleep, he could only guess what his dreams consisted of. Since they had brought him home, he had only been awake brief moments, enough to drink some water and soup, but nothing else, they didn't even know his name yet. His mask was tangled and soaked in sweat, but they had left it on, only bringing it up to his nose so he would drink. The odd, bug-like eyeholes of the Foots mask didn't even permit them to see his eyes.

Finally, the turtle stretched himself, his veins popping lightly, deciding to catch some sleep himself, it was far past midnight by now, and Leo always got cranky if you overslept for practice, though personally, Don thought 6 AM was a little excessive. However, just as he turned around…

"H-Hello?"


	2. Chapter 2: Runaway

**Chapter 2: Runaway**

"You… you're…"

The ninja stammered as he met the eyes of his caretaker. He wasn't sure if the darkness of the place he was in was playing tricks on his mind or if the man, if it was a man, in front of him truly was a giant turtle. His mind was a fog, he remembered so little of the past few days. Dark green shapes carrying him, soothing voices… but surely this creature could not have been one of those who had rescued him?

"It's okay, calm down, I'm not going to harm you…" Don held up his arms, trying to show his patient that he wasn't in any danger.

His eyes widening under his mask as he slowly realized who stood before him. He could make out the turtles purple mask and equipment in the dark; it was one of the kappa that had so often stood against the foot, that The Shredder hated with such a passion.

"I-I know you! You are one of the ninja creatures, the ones the Foot are deadly enemies with!" A little scared, he looked around quickly for any escape, though it made no sense that they would have nursed him back to health if they intended to harm him. Looking back up at the turtle, he relaxed a little. "…why did you help me? Last thing I remember I was up on the roof, then…"

Don allowed himself a smile "Well… me and my brothers found you on that roof, looking to be in pretty bad shape. You asked for our help, so… we brought you here. You've been out cold for a week"

"A week?! Then perhaps… I mean… thank you…" The ninja gave a grateful bow to Donatello, holding back what he was about to say. Don smiled and nodded back.

"If you don't mind me asking, what were you doing up there in the first place? You could have died. Some of your wounds were even infected"

The ninja glanced down on his shirtless body, noticing that some of the fresh wounds, the ones that had been hurting him the most, had been bandaged, the searing pain now almost gone. Trailing one of the older scars absentmindedly, he shook his head, trying to clear his clouded mind.

"The Foot is… a horrible place. I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take more… punishment… for failing…"

_His __superior had told him this was a routine mission for the Foot. Some deadbeat owed the clan money, and despite several reminders, had been unable to pay them back, and was now marked for death, as an example for others._

_His body still wracked with pain from his last training sessions with his master, The Shredder, who seemed almost superhuman sometimes. Their last practice had resulted in three new slash wounds on his side, still patched up and aching. He was hardly in a state to fight, but he didn't dare to ask otherwise._

_He was sitting on the rooftop across from his targets apartment, a dismal, sad old place, with faded colors and flickering lights, just the kind of place a deadbeat would live. Reaching inside his tunic, fingering the hidden shurikens inside, which he intended to dispatch_ _his target with. He could see the man inside, sloped in a recliner, clutching a whisky bottle in his hand. An older man, maybe in his 50's, tired and unshaven._

_Leaping across the roof, he made his way down to the ledge just outside the mans window, peeping inside. He was sleeping now, an easy target. Judging from the state of his home, he would probably be doing the man a favour. So why couldn't he throw his damn shuriken?!_

"…_this is wrong!"_

Sliding down to the floor, with his back against the wall, the runaway ninja quietly buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily, the very grim reality of why he had escaped from his clan in the first place weighing heavily on him. Don blinked, trying to gather the pieces of what he had been told as he looked down on the ninja.

"So… you just up and left then?" Don asked, sitting down crosslegged with him.

"…yeah. As you can see from my state, there's no way I'll ever return there… and the Foot will kill me on sight anyway." He sighed again, tugging his mask back down over his face. Don was still curious about why he had insisted on keeping it on, but the man was enough distressed and he didn't want to press him.

"It's not like I had never killed before, but… It's always been with gang members or the mob, you know, actual battles. But I just couldn't murder someone in cold blood… Which I guess is stupid if you're a ninja" Suddenly chuckling quietly, he looked back up at Don. "Heh, sorry, didn't mean to pour my life story on you"

"Hehe, nah, don't worry, I did ask you after all. Trust me, I know what you mean. About the killing. I mean, I don't even have a lethal weapon, I use a bo staff in battle."

"Really? I never participated in any of the clans battles with you, but I've heard the others talk about you. They're terrified of the red one."

Don chuckled at that remark. "That would be the red terror over there…" He motioned over to the couch behind them, where Raphael was now half-laying, half-kneeling on the couch, snoring loudly.

"Woah… how did I not hear that?" The ninja was surprised as he first now realised there was another of the turtles in the room. So this was the red creature his former comrades had feared so much. Scratching his masked face, he turned back to Don.

"…I'm really thankful for what you and your friends have done for me. I… I'm sorry I cant pay you back"

Don smiled, patting his patients leg. "You can start by telling me your name. I am Donatello by the way"

A little surprised at the request, the ninja nodded slightly "Alright… my name is… or it used to be… Jack… But that was long ago. The clan members aren't allowed to use names, only rank"

"Jack, huh? Well, Jack, it's very nice to meet you" Don smiled and took the others hand in his. The move surprised Jack, though he didn't pull away. The turtles skin felt leathery yet pleasant against his warm human skin, even warmer now that he was coming down from a fever. Yawning widely beneath his mask, still tired despite his long rest, he was still reluctant to let go of his new friend.

Chuckling, Don stood up and gently helped Jack up as well, his legs slightly wobbly but he managed. "You should probably rest some more. I can introduce you to my brothers and my father tomorrow." Jack merely nodded, but he suddenly thought of something. "Um, Donatello, when you rescued me, did you perhaps find a katana with me too? It's… kind of important to me."

"Ah yes, we put it in the dojo after we brought you in, for safe keeping. It'll be there for you in the morning."

Jack nodded, before stifling another yawn. "Thanks, Donatello… thanks for everything." Stretching himself, the ninja vanished back into his guest room, slumping back onto the bed.

Donatello looked at his new friend for a little while before he decided to finally head back to his own room, figuring a little sleep would be better than no sleep when Leonardo would be yelling at him the next morning.

In the guest room, Jack laid awake for another while, the night's strange events spinning around in is head. His mind was still foggy and wished desperately to pull him back into the land of sleep, but he feared that of he did, he'd wake up back at the Foots hideout, back at the nightmare he had tried to escape. He knew little of the beings that had rescued him, but he figured they couldn't be worse than those he had run from.

Plus, that Donatello was so nice…

It wasn't long before he had drifted into slumber, though for once, it was a peaceful one.


End file.
